Chapter 2 - Dad Asked Why We Were Never in Portugal
I didn't let go of his jacket. The fabric was bunched in my fist behind his back and I could feel heat coming off him through the tuxedo. My hair was still wet and it stuck cold against my neck. In front of us, Claire stood under the white floral arch with her hands clasped too tight in front of her lace dress.
The lights were so bright they made everything too white. I could hear chairs shifting. Someone coughed and didn't finish it.
Dad had his left hand curled. No ring now. I had seen him pull it off. His bare finger looked wrong.
Claire tried to smile at the people sitting in the rows. "Everyone, please," she said quietly. "This is a family moment."
Dad didn't look at them. He looked down at me for half a second, then back at her.
I tugged once on his jacket because my throat was closing. "Dad," I said.
He bent just enough that I felt his shoulder drop toward me. His voice was low when he answered me, but it carried anyway in that quiet room.
Then he straightened and said it straight to her. "Then tell me why my daughters were living in this city while you told me they were in Portugal."
The words landed hard. Claire's mouth opened and her veil moved a little when she shook her head. Her updo had not moved all morning but a loose piece was stuck to her cheek now.
"Daniel, please, not here," she whispered. "Sophie, don't."
I pressed closer behind him. The sheer sleeve of her dress shone under the lights when she reached a hand out toward me. I flinched before I meant to. Dad shifted half a step so I was more behind him.
He waited. The arch flowers smelled sweet and heavy. My damp top clung to my back and I was cold despite the warm air.
Claire glanced at the guests again. "You don't understand what the last six months —"
"You told me Portugal," Dad cut in. His tone stayed restrained. He wasn't shouting. That made it worse. "You said school. You said they were settled."
"We were here," I said. My voice trembled and I hated it. "We've been here the whole time."
I felt his hand find my arm behind him and hold on, steady. Not pulling. Just there.
Claire's eyes filled. "Sophie, honey, don't do this now. Daniel, please."
I looked at her white dress and then at my dad's face. The lie sat in my stomach like something sour. I had carried it for months because I thought it came from him.
"Claire said you didn't want us anymore," I said.
It came out small. I heard someone in the second row breathe in sharp.
Dad turned fully enough that I saw his expression crack. His eyebrows pulled together. He stared at me, then at Claire.
"I never said that," he said.
Claire shook her head fast. "That's not — she misunderstood. She's a child, Daniel."
I tightened my grip. "She showed us —" I started, but my voice stopped.
Dad looked down at me again. "What did she show you?" he asked, quieter.
I didn't answer yet because Claire took a step forward and her shoe clicked loud on the floor. Dad put his arm out slightly, keeping the space between us and her. The guests were not whispering anymore. They were just watching, unsettled, hands in laps, programs unopened.
May you like
Claire's lips moved but no sound came at first. Then, "Daniel, you don't understand."
Dad didn't move. His bare left hand hung at his side. I stayed behind him, breathing shallow against his back, waiting for what he would say next.
